It's Always Been About Wind

November 18, 2018

It’s Always Been About Wind


It’s early and the top of the oak
wet with dew is swaying, calling me
as it did when I was a boy, and
the birds, singing before we wake,
are the hearts of those who’ve
suffered, reborn as soft things
that sit in trees.


As for me, I’ve become
a hollow bone through which
things long needing to be said
are sung, though I often don’t
know what they mean.

I have been carved out, one
heartache at a time, to make
a clear sound. I don’t cite this
as a principle, just what
happened to me.

I lean my head to the wind
and my heart sings. Then
I eat the song.


- Mark Nepo

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